Beauty is all in the eye of the beholder at Frieze

Notebook

FRIEZE is upon us again, bringing with it an impressive array of international art that experts and collectors will find illuminating. But novices should not be afraid to enter its hallowed halls: for those unfamiliar with the intricacies of the industry, it is a safari of treasures.

Like many, I am an advocate of the “I may not know art but I know what I like” approach. I learned everything I know about art from Tony Hart and Neil Buchanan. The hosts of my childhood art programmes, they taught the masses how best to channel one’s inner Rembrandt using papiermâché and poster paints. But that doesn’t seem to matter at Frieze, which somehow pulls off the feat of appealing to those who worship at the altar of cubism or those who can barely pronounce Modigliani.

Last night, I was in Regent’s Park for the preview of Frieze and, a short walk away, Frieze Masters. There are popup museums amidst the greenery, vast halls of striking sculptures, affecting installations, and exciting new approaches to the visual arts. It presents everything anyone could ever want in a great film or a novel: romance, sex, drama, history, chaos.

Yes, some of the pieces are reminiscent of a particularly relevant episode of Sex and the City. In it, Charlotte, a docent at an art gallery, is approached by a clueless film star who wishes to purchase the striking, red sculpture positioned against the wall. She, embarrassed, has to inform him that it is a fire extinguisher. During my visit, a small crowd gathered around two men as they carried a heavy load across a room. Some whispered intently at the piece’s message. Others realised pretty quickly that we were simply witnessing two workmen shift an obstacle out of the way.

But the best thing about Frieze is merely coming together beneath a canopied cathedral to marvel at the beauty of the imagination.

Art lover or not, I challenge you to leave without discovering a piece that moves you profoundly.